Her Life in Numbers
by keroberus
Summary: Even a girl genius must evolve. Before she knew it she found herself feeling something more than just friendship for a certain bespectacled hero. When research at Sable Izolle goes missing Hubert is sent to investigate. Pascal falls into a trap laid by someone she once thought as a friend. Together they find the culprit and discover they aren't all that different after all.
1. Chapter 1: Her First Love

**CHAPTER 1: Her First Love**

Anyone in the Enclave who knew Pascal knew of her love for all things mathematic. Even as a child she excelled with numbers, as if she innately understood them, simple and complex alike, by sheer intuition. Irritating her classmates who attended the "learning circles" to no end, Pascal rarely had to think hard before the correct answer fell out of her mouth. These educational meetings were free form gatherings where young Amarcians learned about the world. Soon after she reached her sixteenth year, the leaders of the Enclave realized Pascal had absorbed everything they could possibly teach her like a sponge. In fact, Pascal had surpassed most of her age group by the time she was seven.

But it was not her love for algorithms that led her down this path. Her sister, Fourier, knew that it was for the love of their father that made a once quiet, soft-spoken and polite little Pascal become a loud-mouthed, uncensored, happy-go-lucky, unbelievably optimistic, and cheerful girl genius.

Fourier cleaned up more of Pascal's room for the second time that week. Every effort to clean up one heap or pile would result in her younger sister creating more heaps and piles in a different location. It was almost as if they were playing some inane little game. When the noon hour came, Fourier finally gave up. Every time she visited her sister's dwelling, it just kept getting worse. Cryas crystals and batteries were stacked in one corner, battery rechargers in the next; then came the hand tools seemingly scattered across the floor but upon further examination Fourier realized they were arranged in order of usefulness for her current project of stabilizing unstable cryas amplifiers. Each pile was a form of disorganized organization, for example; all oblong or cylindrical objects, all things that were a shade of green, all items that made loud noises, or all things that could be salvaged for parts.

"There's method to your madness after all," sighed Fourier, wondering why she hadn't seen the patterns before. "That's so like you," she muttered as she took down the washed scarves that were hanging above to dry from random strings of rope or wire. Even these were arranged by color spectrum. Though she often resented Pascal, Fourier was more in awe of her sister than anything. Pascal's mind was like an onion, hundreds of layers operating at the same time, and when she was working at full capacity she never stopped to eat, sleep…or bathe. It seemed her sister recharged only when she collapsed periodically.

As a child Pascal was a quiet, shy girl, always in the shadow of their very loud, very amiable father. Pascal had observed and followed him in his workshop nonstop when he was home. It was as if she couldn't get enough of him, since his employment took him far away at times. Their father, Ampere, worked for the government of Fendel as a cryas researcher. Renown for his engineering prowess, his lucrative contracts with the government helped him raise a family and provide amply for them. To his chagrin, however, he was unhappy with the government's plans for his work. Eventually, many of the war machines used to invade Lhant or to battle Windor originated with her father's rough sketches. Fortunately he did not live to see that future come to pass.

Quiet and always watching, Pascal's sense of observation originated with watching their parents' facial expressions. Perhaps her little sister had understood her parents, the loud inventor who laughed out loud but hid whatever he was feeling and the quiet homemaker who wore her emotions on her sleeve, better than Fourier had. It was Pascal who first pointed out that their mother, Feuillee was looking unwell. Fourier, who was working on her thesis to pass the Elder's proficiency exams had not noticed at the time. Shortly thereafter, their mother fell ill and passed away. Ampere, unable to look upon a house without his wife making it a home, travelled further away from the Enclave and came back less frequently. When Pascal was ten, news came of their father's entourage being caught in a sudden blizzard, never to return.

Perhaps it was because her older sibling was all she had, and Fourier found it exceedingly difficult to smile in those hard days, that Pascal purposefully put on a cheerful face in hopes it might rub off on her sister.

Thinking about it carefully as she folded the scarves and placed them neatly in her sister's drawers, Fourier realized her sister rarely frowned. Pascal almost always had a goofy look on her face, or a grin, or a beam. It seemed little sister was determined to be happy enough for all of them. If Pascal ever felt anything else, she never showed it to Fourier.

A sudden thud against the door and the sound of it swinging wide open gave Fourier a start. She groaned as she observed her sister, hair and clothes in various states of disarray, bringing small puffs of dirt into the dwelling wherever she stepped.

"What-?" asked Fourier, at a loss of words when she saw Pascal had brambles stuck to her short reddish hair. Pascal noticed where her sister was gaping and plucked a few of her mop of hair, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. Fourier watched in silent incredulity as the offending brambles rolled in every direction.

"I came back home through the forest," Pascal answered simply.

"Where-? Fourier demanded, glaring at the dusty footprints, but was unable to finish the sentence as her sister cut her off with a wave of her hand and a grin.

"I was exploring the cavern looking for more cryas samples."

Fourier saw that her sister's shirt was torn on the side but thankfully she appeared unhurt. Still it was the second time she's had to mend Pascal's clothes this week. "How-?" Fourier uttered but Pascal looked down wide eyed at the gash in her clothing answered with a shrug.

"Well dang, I must'a snagged it when I fell out of that tree."

Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger Fourier waited until her blood stopped pounding in her ears before she let it go with a sigh and headed for the door. "I'm next door if you need me."

Pascal smiled as she watched her sister go. They had had an argument the night before but as Pascal looked around she saw that her sister had tried to clean her room again, maybe as an apology, but left most things untouched. The floor looked like it had been swept - or at least the parts that were not covered in piles of stuff had been swept. Her scarves were all gone and likely folded and placed in her drawer. Pascal swept aside a beaded curtain of used cryas crystals and reached for an oval picture frame on a nearby shelf. A wistful expression washed over her face as she touched her father's image in the crudely painted frame. It was her gift for him when she turned four, proof of a little girl's love for her father.

"I'm home, Dad."

Pascal absently put the frame on a nearby table and looked around. When she spotted her communicator she cradled it gently in her hand and sat down in her lounge chair to listen again to the last message recorded on it.

_"It's starting to get windy. The sandstorms are going to pick up soon. It's my least favorite season since Strahtans have to stay in the city for the most part to avoid the mess outside. That usually means indoor soirees and social, business and political gatherings all wrapped into one in an endless string. More of the same boring people until the season passes." _He let out a mirthless chuckle._ "I think I'd rather brave the storms. But I enjoyed hearing about your recent research. I'm sorry your cryas regeneration project failed but at least you thought of a way to use natural gas to heat up the stoves in Fendel. I think it's brilliant to rely on other resources since cryas are so scarce. Your ideas are simple and elegant, as always." _Pascal could hear the sounds of passers by and falling water as he pondered what else to say.

_"I have to go now, duty awaits. Send me another message so I don't get bored to tears here."_

A smile crept across her lips as she listened to his voice, rich in intonation and with perfect diction. In her head, she used to refer to him as "little bro" or sometimes in her head as "uptight tights." Her opinion of him changed as they traveled together and she secretly dubbed him "fancy pants" or "straight shooter." His attire was impeccable and the precision of his dual shots never ceased to amaze. Her shot staff barrage was nothing in comparison.

They had all parted ways for some time now, and she couldn't describe the effect it had on her or why it was even affecting her. Little by little he intruded upon her thoughts while she was working her on her machines. With every _thunk-a-chunk_ she pounded, his face and that small little smile he rarely showed kept popping back into her head. Several experiments had gone awry and a few machines almost exploded for her lack of concentration.

As the intrusion continued, Pascal did other things that were extremely out of character. For one, she washed her clothes once a week now and took a bath almost as often. She made sure she always had clean underwear, even if she had to go buy new ones at the shop when there was no time for laundry. Pascal ate at least one normal meal a day, though cooking was not her forte. Before she met Hubert periodically sucking on a lemon gel was enough for her to get by. (Though she did still suck on gels when she had no food at her house.) When she couldn't cook she would invite herself over to Poisson's or Fourier's if they were in. Her schedule even became a bit more regular.

Even more curious, she recently found herself wanting to travel less, and yet felt restless when she wasn't traveling. In her moods she tinkered at her machines without great interest, and instead did little things such as organized her tools in order of size or sometimes usefulness. Other times she found herself washing her hair (and enjoying it) with the sweet smelling Strahtan soap he had sent as a gift. She did this in secret of course so Fourier would not know, or else there would be no end to her sisters' heckling and I-told-you-so's.

Last night, Fourier's high and mighty lecture had been really unbearable. There came a point when even Pascal, who usually avoided conflict, charged her sister head-on in a debate about none other than Hubert, the young man who had invaded her thoughts of late.

_"Are you blind, stupid or both?" _Fourier had demanded, wondering where she had gone wrong in Pascal's upbringing that her sister could be so observant of people and yet so clueless as to understanding herself. The question had caught Pascal off guard. She had never been referred to as blind or stupid and so the question was illogical.

_"He told you that he couldn't stop thinking of you?"_ her sister demanded.

_"Yes…"_ Pascal had answered, unable to predict where this conversation was leading.

_"He told you he was supposed to marry no less than the President's daughter, and he was going to turn this down despite it being the hopes of all his family?"_ Fourier continued, her voice becoming more shrill and every moment her face was colored a deeper shade of angry.

_"Uh-huh,"_ Pascal nodded.

_"And why do you think that is?"_

_"Because… "_

_"Please don't tell me it's because he thinks you smell. If that's your answer I'm going to dump you into the bath tub right now."_

_"I-"_ Pascal had begun but out of nowhere her temper flashed across her brain. _"I didn't know what to say, all right?"_ she yelled back. _"He caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting him to say those things! For one I was concentrating on mecha-Asbel as my next super weapon, but then he comes up to me and starts to tell me this stuff. I was all like, ka-chunk ker-plunk and then he interrupted me with all those-fancy words. I mean, we didn't always get a long, but eventually I think we understood one another and trusted each other enough to actually share what we were thinking so I was kinda only half-listening until his words started tripping over each other and he said he couldn't stop thinking of me. No one has ever said that to me before."_ Pascal could feel the flush returning to her face. _"I was embarrassed. I was scared. I wanted him to go away so I could finish mecha-Asbel. So I just-"_

_"You played dumb,"_ her sister concluded. Pascal couldn't deny it, and it made her angry to admit it, but all she could do was look down in shame all the while hiding the expression on her face.

_"I understand what you're saying, all right?_" Pascal blurted out, exasperated. It pained her to think that she had hurt Hubert's feelings to preserve her own by not acknowledging his. _ "But I didn't know what to do! I'm not you."_

"_You don't have to be!" _ her sister had yelled back._ "I can't take care of you forever, Pascal. You need to grow up or find someone who will take care of you." _ Without another word Fourier had left and slammed the door behind her.

Pascal let out an uncharacteristic sigh as the recollection faded and she sat back against her favorite chair. The communicator rolled out of her lap and onto the floor where it popped open. The screen came on and the message played again. She listened to his voice intently, trying to imagine his facial features as he spoke, the way he would push his glasses back up, or run a hand through his short cropped, military style hair. The sound of ambient noise followed. She had never let the recording play beyond this point. Pascal wondered if he had wanted to say more but then was interrupted by someone else - a soldier reporting to him that the President wanted him to attend a meeting. Hubert had forgotten to push the stop button. After the footsteps of the soldier faded Pascal heard him whisper, _"I miss you,"_ before the recording ran out.

Pascal froze for a minute wondering if she had heard correctly. She didn't dare pick it up and play it back on the off chance she had imagined it. Her heart was beating erratically now.

She looked over at her father's portrait. "What am I doing, Dad?"

Pascal packed what she needed (note pad, drill, gels, water, holy bottle, food and shot staff) and left a note for Fourier.

* * *

><p>Author's note: I wanted to write this as soon as I finished the game earlier this year but I didn't know how to start. It's easy when you see that two characters are cannon as a couple but when you place Pascal into the formula you hit a snag and wonder how that girl even functions on a daily basis, let alone gets to a point where she could fall in love.<p>

So to explain how Pascal gets her happy ending, you have to consider Pascal herself. Is she dense or is she faking it? This story is written under the premise that she is faking it, since she has such moments of thoughtful clarity that make you wonder if everything on the outside is just a facade. There's more to this girl genius than meets the eye, and this chapter is really about her three "first loves."

You guessed it, each chapter will have numerical references ('cause I'm weird like that).

-Kero


	2. Chapter 2: The Second It Hit

**Chapter 2: The Second It Hit**

For the first week of the month she was usually residing in the Chancellor's residence as a guest researcher in Fendel. She had earned the praise and respect of the Fendel Research Laboratory, now converted into a mechanical and bio engineering center led by her sister. Understanding her need for independent, unscrutinized work, Chancellor Eigen usually let her do what she wanted and go wherever she pleased. Only Captain Malik checked in on her from time to time. Pascal even had what she called an "uber pass" as she described it to Fourier, that would allow her access to the "super secret places." She only needed to report to Chancellor Eigen once a month with her proposals and present any newly made progress. These were the only terms of her employment. The rest of the month she was free to do and explore Ephinea as she pleased.

Pascal was once of the opinion that exploring was the best part of her life, as she was able to leave the confines of the Enclave and go anywhere, just as her father did. Most Amarcians would rather keep their distance from Ephinea's general population but the pure Amarcians were a dying race. Those who left the enclave for reasons other than work did not usually return. Pascal knew that few Amarcians decided to marry and have children because the family unit was not enforced in their culture. In fact, many Amarcian children are raised by elder members of the Enclave while their parents worked outside of it. They were not, by nature, a close knit society either. Rather, they were only the remnants of an ancient race that was once a great society, but most Amarcians living today had little interest in the past, let alone sticking together.

Pascal, like her father, didn't believe in the separatist stance prior generations of the Enclave had enacted, and when the current Overseer agreed to help Fendel and its people Pascal was overjoyed. It was her ticket to go explore the world and test her theories. Better still that she had made good friends during her journeys and ate as many bananas as she wanted.

If her father taught her anything, it was that science could help make people's lives better, or it could destroy entire civilizations. Pascal had studied Amarcian ruins and ancient Amarcian history as her thesis topic, but she hoped her work would prove to be the opposite. She had seen first hand that Fodra was the prime example of the dangers of science. She believed science should be used for the empowerment, protection and livelihood of the common people so Ephinean cultures could evolve together. Though people generally saw her as a happy-go-lucky type of girl, Pascal was no fool. There were some notes and ideas she knew better than to share with Eigen or any other world leader at the yearly Summit Science Meetings in Yu Liberte. Mecha dolls could be used as weapons. Cryas amplifiers could be designed as bombs. The unfettered use of her father's work posthumously had taught her that. She kept only one notebook for sketches, and that stayed with her at all times. Everything else, she kept in her head.

But there was one thing her father never taught her, and perhaps in hindsight, she should have heeded Hubert's message.

_Never_ travel in a sandstorm.

Her head wrapped tightly in a scarf and donning a pair of goggles, Pascal struggled to see ahead of her as she dug her staff into the sand beneath her sinking feet. She couldn't even tell if she was going in a straight line. The people at port had warned her not to go, but it seemed silly to be so close to Yu Liberte and not try to get there as soon as possible. But the second the storm hit, she calculated the chances of her making it out alive as slim, and wondered if they would find her remains fossilized in the sand thousands of years later, like the famous "sand statues."

"That cactus looks awfully familiar," she grumbled underneath her scarf. She was sure there was sand in between each of her teeth now, and maybe under her tongue, but there was no helping it. One thing she forgot to bring was money, and so instead of using a transport she had to go on foot from the port to Yu Liberte. The journey was taking about a week, and this sand storm certainly wasn't helping. Several times Pascal wanted to turn back, but realized she didn't know which direction "back" was.

As she went over the stages of decomposition and her lessons from childhood about chemical reactions needed for petrification and fossilization, she heard a distinct noise carried by the thrashing wind. When she heard it again, Pascal was sure it was the voice of someone screaming for help and she started to run towards it.

Stumbling over the crest of a large sand dune, she slid down the opposite side with her staff at the ready. A group of desert scorpion monsters had happened upon a caravan that was tending to a broken wheel on one of the wagons. What appeared to be women and children were huddled inside the covered wagons while the men and mercenaries guarding the caravan were doing their best to fend off the monsters. They were more rare nowadays, with both Ephinea and Fodra's core stabilized, but they were still a threat to travelers.

These monsters were among Pascal's least favorite because they could kill you instantly with a single sting and her fighting style was not the up close, hack-and-slash style of Asbel or the sharp shooting killing style that was Hubert's. It would be all over if she was stung since she could not heal herself, but none of that really crossed her mind as she cocked her weapon and opened fire. A barrage of energy was released from her cryas powered staff and Pascal instantly segued into an inter-dimensional summoning spell to call in some heavy cavalry to end it quickly.

"Come forth!" she commanded and in a flash of light mecha-Sophie was in front of her taking down the enemy with laser canon fire. After the dust cleared and the spell ended, only one was left. Pascal finished it off with several shots and a combination whack-smash-thunk on the head.

When the confrontation ended, the men and women of the group thanked her profusely, shared their supplies and welcomed her to tag along as they made their way towards Sable Izolle.

-000-

News of the sandstorm had kept most travelers stranded in the small research town and caravans, business and government alike, were stuck until the storm passed. Like most towns in Strahta, Sable Izolle was protected by a cryas field that functioned as a dome keeping out the elements when activated to avoid sand sweeping into the town at times like these. It was a welcome respite for those coming in from the storm, but it was also a restless stay for those who were waiting to get out.

Hubert drummed his fingers rhythmically against the wooden table of the local watering hole and only half-listened to the idle chatter of his officers and the soldiers who had accompanied him at the President's request. Important research from the facility at Sable Izolle and funded by the government had gone missing, and it was Hubert's task to find out if it was espionage or pure carelessness, or both. Cryas research, especially since the world was nearly destroyed by Lambda, was a popular topic these days. Since the supply was limited, research was precious and if stolen, could possibly be sold to the highest bidder. Hubert knew his father all too well and part of the reason he accepted the assignment was to make sure the Oswell name wasn't involved somehow. The other reason was to escape the fashionable season when women had nothing better to do than try to set him up for marriage.

He drank his cider and mulled over the investigation thus far. He had no suspects and wondered if his last lead had gone cold. It was very unlike him to report to the President empty-handed, and his pride wouldn't allow him to overlook anything. So as his men talked, he went over his notes mentally, separating and grouping them together in his head.

The conversations in the bar came to a stop when a frazzled fellow burst in looking for a doctor. His wife was pregnant and had started to go into contractions when their caravan was attacked by monsters. Fortunately, a doctor from the port had been stranded in town when the storm hit and just happened to be sitting by the door when he heard the man's plight and agreed to assist. The innkeeper offered a clean bed upstairs and the traveler thanked him profusely and rushed back outside with help for his wife.

Another group of travelers sat down at an empty table and ordered refreshment from the bar as they all unraveled their dusty cloaks and scarves to settle in.

"Thank goodness that young woman saved us. Don't know what she was doing out there, but if it wasn't for her we might have been killed," said one of the travelers.

"Oh really?" asked the innkeeper as he served them cider.

"I've never seen someone fight with a shot staff before or summon things out of mid-air," said a young boy. "It was so awesome! One of the things she summoned was like a really big doll with pigtails and a humongous head!"

Hubert's attention snapped to and he half got out of his chair as his men watched him quizzically.

"Where is she now?" he demanded. The traveller looked a bit surprised at the sudden inquiry but inclined his head politely to what he rightly presumed was a high-ranking military official.

"I-I think she's still helping outside…." his answer trailed as Hubert headed for the door. But before he reached the entrance, a group of heavily cloaked women, one of them carrying a silver shot staff, assisted the laboring woman into the inn and ushered her upstairs. It wasn't until he called out her name that she stopped and turned to look at him. She blinked at him several times before her eyes went wide in surprise.

"Hu!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

He met her at the bottom of the steps and without thinking clasped one of her hands in his.

"I would ask you the same thing," he said as he observed her dusty form. Dirt was smudged across her pale cheeks and her goggles were still on top of her head, which was wrapped in the turban she had made to keep the sand out of her hair.

"I heard you protected them," he said as he did a visual check for wounds. "Are you hurt?"

"Heh, naw," she chuckled shyly. "Just ran into some really big bugs out there. In hindsight I would'a preferred if you or your bro were leading the front lines. I'm more of a back-up type of gal."

"I'm glad you're safe," he said earnestly. She smiled one of her radiant smiles and it almost took his breath away. She removed her foggy goggles and shook out the sandy scarf. As Pascal tossed back her red and white cropped hair, Hubert thought he caught the scent of Strahtan wild flower soap.

Pascal pulled away and marched rather unceremoniously to the bar at that point and plopped down in a stool. She then proceeded to remove her gloves and her cloak and bundled all of it in a heap on the seat beside her.

"What can I do for the young lady?" asked the bartender.

"Just gimme…anything." She sighed and ran a tired hand through her hair, resting her chin in her palm. "I'm so thirsty and all I taste is sand. Wandering lost in the desert really makes even cactus look appetizing. But, uh…I don't have any money." She grinned apologetically.

The bartender stared at her.

"Get her a fresh cider and a side of bananas," said Hubert, appearing next to her, placing coins on bar. His facial expression turned stern when she looked up at him. "Whatever possessed you to travel in the desert during a sandstorm? You could have died out there."

"Yeah, I s'pose I could'a," she grinned. "But I figure everything always works out in the end. And so it did!"

Hubert groaned both inwardly and outwardly. "I wish you would take a deeper interest in your well being and safety. What are you even doing out here?"

"Well…" she paused and grasped for an explanation other than the truth. "You said the sandstorms were pretty bad here. I thought I'd see just how bad they were… y'know… for myself," Pascal said, her voice tapering off. Even she found her lame excuse unconvincing. She tried again. "I was also interested in seeing how the cryas field worked. So here I am." Pascal smiled cheerfully and hoped the explanation was enough to satisfy. Alas, nothing really could get past those sharp eyes, as she was well aware.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked her seriously, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and almost frowning at her. She visibly shrank from the scrutiny of the furrowed brows.

"I..uh, it's nothing," she mumbled and looked away. She couldn't exactly tell him that the only reason she risked the sandstorm was to see him sooner. Pascal was still a little embarrassed that it ended up taking her twice as long.

_You need to find someone who will take care of you._ Her sister's words haunted her and Pascal frowned at the fact that her sister nagged her even when she wasn't physically present.

"What's wrong?" Hubert asked, noticing the sudden change of expression. Pascal wondered if he was always this attentive or if he was even better than she was at reading expressions. She looked up and gave a small smile, shaking her head. Finishing up the snack and chugging down the drink in the blink of an eye, Pascal sighed and looked up at him.

"I guess I'm a little tired from wandering around." She offered a sheepish grin and Hubert's expression softened again.

Listening to the conversation, the bartender added, "I'm sorry miss, but if the entire group of people you came with are going to stay here, I'm all out of rooms. Most other places are crammed with all the travelers hiding from the storm, too."

Pascal gave a little laugh. "Well, it's not like I have money to pay for a room anyway. Just let me borrow a row of chairs or a rug, or a crate and I'm good." At her elbow Hubert cleared his throat.

"My men are staying at the barracks of the local militia. I actually have a room here and there are two beds…" he began. A noticeable flush was creeping up his face.

"Why do you need two beds?" she asked innocently.

"Well, that's just what I mean," he sighed in exasperation. "If you don't mind, you could sleep with me." One of the nearby soldiers nearly choked on his drink while the bartender let out a muffled guffaw.

"T-That's not what I meant!" he stammered. "I meant, if you don't mind sharing the room, you could sleep in the other bed. In fact, just use my room and I'll find a cot in the barracks." The rest of his words stumbled over each other and he turned his back towards her in finality.

Pascal noticed that he did these things whenever he was flustered, and she found it endearing. She pat him on the back and answered loudly, "Aw, thanks Hu! If you don't mind sleeping with me, I'd love to!"

Hubert was about to admonish her to keep her voice down but he relented and gave up. He shot his men a serious glare and they all looked away as if the peeling paint, the floor boards, or the bottom of their cups suddenly became very interesting. He gave his men some additional orders and they shuffled out of the bar fairly quickly. Just as he was about to head back to the research tower Pascal caught the hem of his jacket.

"Thank you…Hu," she smiled softly. Hubert resisted his first inclination to gather her small frame into his arms and just smiled back.

"You're welcome. Let me show you to the room first." He looked over to the barkeep and added, "Anything else she wants will be on my tab."

"Yessir," said the burly man. Hubert ignored the wink he received and led Pascal upstairs.

The room was sizable, probably the best room in the house, with two beds, a bath, and a lounge area. Pascal felt a little guilty that other guests had to squeeze into less accommodating rooms but Hubert was an Oswell after all. Money was never an obstacle. The large space made her feel a bit small.

"There it is again," said Hubert staring directly into her face. Pascal blinked back to reality and realized his face was very close to hers.

"What?" she asked.

"That look on your face. It's rare. I've only seen it once before today, when we were about the engage the Little Queen in battle. You're always smiling, otherwise. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she insisted cheerfully.

She wondered when the mask she had worn nearly all her life had suddenly come off, or if in his presence she felt she didn't need it. In all her twenty-four years, Pascal had never really been understood, not even by Fourier. And yet, in this one moment, Hubert had read her perfectly, and asked her directly. For all his bluntness, Hubert was nothing if not to the point. Even his words had an exactness that skipped the fluff and demanded access while laying himself bare. With his one question, she finally understood what her sister was trying to tell her.

She really liked him. But she had no idea how to tell him.


	3. Chapter 3: Three's a Crowd

**Chapter 3: Three's A Crowd**

After a quick bath, and a change into more native attire that she borrowed from a member of the caravan while her own clothes were being washed, Pascal felt much less gritty. She gargled a few times just to make sure the sand was out of her mouth and even scrubbed down her fingernails since working with sand under them was uncomfortable. Having cleaned off, she then proceeded to dismantle, oil and recalibrate her personal tools that she carried with her wherever she went. She disassembled her shot staff as well and made sure it was sand-free for optimum performance. Soon, her hands were dirty again from the entire process.

"Why do people even bother getting clean?" she asked herself rhetorically, frowning at the state of her hands. "They're only going to get dirty again. I mean, isn't it just a waste of time?"

It was that precise moment that Hubert entered the room again but stopped in silence at the sight of her. Her hair was noticeably wet, and still a dripping onto her borrowed white cotton blouse. The thinness of the material did not go unnoticed where her hair was dripping over her shoulder to reveal the shade of her skin underneath.

She sat cross-legged on the window seat with her leggings under a full length white skirt from which her bare feet and ankles peeked out underneath the hem. The skirt itself was decorated with light blue florets and against the soft light of the room Pascal seemed utterly feminine even while using her wrench to move a bolt from her hand drill back into place.

"You took a bath," he said, partly in awe and partly embarrassed that he caught himself staring for so long.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I figured having sand everywhere wasn't really somethin' I enjoyed."

"You hate baths."

"Not since recently. That soap you sent me was so fun. One little drop and swoosh it goes all _ploofy-piffly_ and before I know it I'm covered head to toe in fluffy, bubbly stuff." A silly grin appeared on her face. "I like it. Doesn't even need that much water."

Hubert tried his best not to visualize her lathering up with the soap he sent her.

"Besides, even you thought I smelled. That's why you sent the soap right?" she asked.

"I never said you smelled bad!" he insisted. "In fact, I don't really mind…."

Hubert cleared his throat and went back into the bathroom to retrieve a towel only to thrust it in her direction.

"You'll catch cold with your hair still dripping. Sable Izolle is a desert but that means the nights here are quite chilled."

"Huh?" she asked quizzically. "Oh." Pascal just realized that she hadn't bothered to dry her hair. "I'll be fine. Besides, my hands are dirty again…"

Hubert let out a quick huff and then proceeded to dry her hair for her. Pascal was a little shocked, but soon the rhythmic feel of his hands over the towel felt more like a massage and she inadvertently closed her eyes. She quietly put her hands in her lap and let him continue. If she were a cat she would have started to purr.

When he was finished, he rolled up the towel and draped it around her neck.

"There. That's how it's done," he said matter-of-factly.

"You've done that before?" she asked with wide-eyes.

"Well yes. I mean, n-no," he stammered. "Not for a girl! That…was a first."

"Oh," she responded. "But it felt really good! I wish you could do that for me all the time," she beamed. Hubert blushed uncomfortably and pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. Without thinking Pascal took one of his hands in her own and pressed her palm against his. The action made Hubert want to take his hand back, but she held it firmly as she spread her fingers up against his.

"Wow, Hu. Your hands are really big. I know I always used to call you 'little bro' but you're really not that little," she laughed. With that she placed his hand on top of her damp head. "No wonder that felt so good."

Hubert cleared his throat uncomfortably again and wondered if he should have left for the barracks with his men. He reclaimed his hand and let it fall to his side. It still tingled.

"Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?" he asked as he looked at the sprawl of gadgets surrounding her, wondering when was the last time she ate a decent meal.

"A little," she responded, busying herself with her hands again. She clicked the rod of her shot staff back in place and checked the function of the cryas crystal.

"When was the last time you ate a meal?"

"Huh," she responded and made a face while she searched her memory. "I'm not sure, actually."

"Oh, Pascal," he sighed in exasperation. "You really need to take better care of yourself. Do me a favor and invent a timer that goes off every eight hours or so to remind you to eat."

She looked up earnestly at him and said, "That's actually not a bad idea." She took out her notebook and scribbled some rough sketches of what that design would look like.

Hubert resigned himself to the thought that perhaps something had gotten through to her and turned to leave.

"Where ya goin'? she asked, still sketching.

"I'm actually here on military business. I'm investigating something at the research tower."

"Oh! I wanna go!" she said, putting away her notebook into her satchel and strapping her tool belt on. On anyone else, a tool belt on a dress would have been out of place but with Pascal, Hubert found it fetching.

"It's not top secret is it?" she asked tentatively, disappointment in her voice.

"You need to eat first," he insisted.

"Will you eat with me?" she asked hopefully.

"Very well, but you have ten minutes."

"I can scarf down a lot in ten minutes!" she remarked cheerfully.

"Yes, of that I am aware," he sighed. A small smile crept across his face against his will.

"Whoa! There it is!" she cheered as she stepped in front of him and beamed. Hubert stopped mid step to avoid crashing into her.

"What?" he demanded.

"Your smile," Pascal teased. "I don't usually see it. You should smile more often, Hu. Your face looks better that way."

He stepped around her and answered curtly, "That isn't necessary." Hubert hurried down the steps to avoid her noticing how pink his ears had gotten.

Shaking that feeling off, he signaled the innkeeper's wife to serve them with a meal.

"Two dinner plates, ciders and one dessert with bananas in it," he ordered. She nodded and went back into the kitchen. He pulled a chair out for Pascal and seated himself across from her by the window where the late afternoon light was highlighting the red streaks in her hair.

The barkeep brought their drinks and gave Hubert another wink. Hubert only rolled his eyes and looked away as he drank his cider.

"Wow Hu. This kinda feels like a date," she smiled. Hubert nearly spit out his drink.

"A d-date?" he stammered.

"Though...I am four years older than you." She wrinkled her nose. "I wonder if people would think I'm your older sister?"

"S-Sister?" he asked, appalled at the thought. "I doubt it. We look nothing alike. I certainly don't see you that way."

"I bet you when the sun sets the best view of it is at the research tower. Let's go see!" her train of thought rambled on, without missing a beat.

"If you'd like," said Hubert cautiously waiting for her to say something outrageous before he tried to finish his drink. The innkeepers wife brought their meals and Pascal wondered why she winked at her.

Cutting into her steak and vegetables Pascal asked with a serious expression, "How do you see me, Hu? Do you think I'm an oddball?"

Hubert observed her somber expression and asked gently, "What brought this on? No, I don't think that. I think you're brilliant." He looked out the window and added, "Whenever I see your radiant smile I feel as though I'm looking at a really bright star that shines alone in the night's canopy." Pascal watched as his smile came back to his lips.

"Are y'sure you don't say that to all the girls?" she asked, deflecting the compliment since she was embarrassed at where this conversation was going.

"Not a one," he replied immediately, staring her straight in the eye. She looked a bit surprised but her smile came back in full force.

"I like it," she beamed.

"You do?" he asked incredulously. Hubert hadn't really been prepared for that response.

"If some other guy came up to me and said something like that I'd be like, 'Whoa, back up!' and beat him over the head with my staff or something. But with you, it's different. I can't…really explain it that well."

She looked up and saw Hubert staring at her in shock. "Did I say something wrong?" she asked.

"N-no," he stammered. "Not a thing. In fact your words made me…" His words trailed and he hesitated.

"Made you…" Pascal trailed after him.

"Happy," he admitted as he pushed his glasses back up. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in a while. He looked at their hands on the table, nearly touching, and he didn't dare alter this status quo. If anything Hubert was a patient man. He would go at her pace.

They finished up dinner in the allotted amount of time and she traipsed happily beside him as they headed towards the research tower. Hubert imagined her brain was already starting to think of all the gadgets and books she'd find in there and her eyes were ready to glaze over in delight. Her high spirits were almost infectious.

"I haven't been to the tower in a while. I know the Amarcians used it as a library of sorts, but I never really found the opportunity to go to Sable Izolle's tower until I met you guys. I think I could really spend hours in there!" She paused before asking, "What interest does the military have there?"

"It's more of an investigation. Research has gone missing and the President wants to make sure it's not espionage, or worse."

"What's worse than espionage?"

"Treason," he answered without pause. "I don't think my father is involved, but the Oswell name spreads far and wide."

"You're here to stop him if he's behind it?" she asked.

"Yes."

As they walked up the steps she stopped and turned to look at him "I don't think it's your father."

"And how do you know that?" Hubert asked.

"I just have a feeling," she shrugged. "When I met him at the last summit, he didn't seem like the type to sell out his country, and he didn't seem like the type to try to stage another coup. Not after the lengths you went to to put him back in his place. I think he knows you're gonna be there to keep him honest, Hu."

"You don't know my father," he sighed.

"I think he's proud of you," Pascal answered matter-of-factly. "I don't think he'd do anything to ruin your rep." Hubert considered her words carefully.

"Even if it isn't him," he relented, "I still have to find the research."

"Ooh! I can help!" she volunteered, and with that she charged through the tower doors and looked around for her Amarcian friend, Madic, who worked here. When she spotted him, she waved furiously until he saw her.

"Madic!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Pascal!" a young scientist in a white lab coat called back. He went over to her and to Hubert's displeasure, hugged her. Pascal took Madic into a corner and they started a conversation in low voices. Pascal nodded a few times towards Hubert, who was in fact glaring at them at this point. Hubert could feel one of his eyebrows twitching involuntarily.

"It is good to see you, Pascal. I haven't seen you since the last summit. We should have dinner before you leave," said Madic.

"Sure!" she responded. "I'd like that. But first, I wanted to ask you what it is you're researching around here. It looks like it has something to do with ruins?" Her eyes lit up as she traced a finger against the chalkboard and the myriad of scribbles and formulas across it. There was a schematic of the underground ruin pinned to the board as well. Pascal recognized the schematic as the location of one of the Amarcian cannons located in the Uncharted Sandstretch. She had seen them before from the database portal located near Lhant.

"Did you pull these from the library below?" she asked innocently.

"I did," said Madic. "I'm not as proficient as you are in ancient Amarcian but I think this is one of two cannons used to clear a path to return to Fodra."

"That's right," said Pascal, her eyes quickly scanning the board once more as she checked the formulas.

"This is the formula for cryas power generation. Are you trying to compact it?" Pascal asked again. She took a piece of chalk and erased a number from the board replacing it with another.

"For some reason, cryas formulas really like the number four," she said cryptically. "It's like the natural rhythm of cryas energy particles." Pascal went on to change several other parts of the formula. "If you divide this here, and take this away, the formula becomes more simple and easier to manage." She looked up at her friend with a probing glance. "Why do you want to compact cryas energy? How will you harness it and what are you using it for?"

"That's part of my research," Madic said simply. "It's something I was tasked to do."

"If you compact the particles, you will speed up their resonance, creating more energy…but there's also the risk of making all their bonds unstable. Without the proper harnessing material you could set off the entire thing…unless that's what you want…." Her brow creased now and she raised an eyebrow.

Growing up together, Pascal knew that Madic was not mean spirited, but he had an ambition that she rarely saw in Amarcians. She quelled the rising concerns with a smile.

"But of course, y'know that. You weren't at the top of our mathematics class for nothin'."

"If I remember correctly, _you_ were at the top of the class, friend," Madic smiled back. "I'm just number crunching for these people here. I don't know what they want to do with the formulas." He looked over the changes Pascal made to the board and nodded approvingly. "That is better, thanks."

"Don't mention it." Pascal looked over to Hubert who was talking with the head researcher and she changed the subject. "I came here with a friend who's investigating something. Have you heard about it?"

"Right, the missing research," Madic sighed. "It belonged to my superior and I already told the major everything I knew. It was a file on the cannon research she had been compiling."

"Do you know when it went missing?"

"We were all at the ruins then. She may have just misplaced it," he shrugged. Her friend picked up a clipboard full of notes and spreadsheets. "I have a little bit more to do but do you want to go somewhere and talk after my shift?"

"Sure," Pascal answered cheerfully. "I'm staying with Hu at the Golden Eagle. Let's meet at the tavern."

Her friend's eyes went wide. "You're staying with the Major? Are you two a couple?"

"A couple of what?" she asked.

Madic chuckled. "I guess not, if you don't know what I mean."

As slow, deliberate footsteps approached, Pascal turned to see Hubert with a particularly scary expression on his face. She almost stepped back.

"Hey Hu," Pascal smiled cheerfully. "Let me introduce you to Madic. He and I grew up together at the Enclave."

"A pleasure," Hubert said politely.

"Oh, Pascal, before you leave, I know you want to see the cryas field generator don't you? It's actually at the top of the tower," he said cheerfully. "Come on, I'll show you."

"Sure, Madic," she said with like enthusiasm. "You know me pretty well, dont'cha?"

"Of course," he smiled and looked pointedly at Hubert. "We've known each other since we were kids, after all." He followed Pascal up the stairway while Hubert followed behind him, glaring at the back of Madic's head, all the while wanting to pull his dual pistols and use it as target practice.

* * *

><p>Author's note: So along the same lines as the game, everyone having to do with the Enclave is named after a French scientist. I threw in Madic to be a third wheel, possibly some competition. I guess I just like playing around with Hubert's reactions. ^_^<p>

-K


	4. Chapter 4: Four Corners of the World

**Chapter 4: The Four Corners of the World**

The innkeeper's wife brought the trio a full three course meal with dessert and tea afterwards, all the while eyeing the third wheel rather suspiciously. To any one watching them, it seemed that Pascal and Madic got along splendidly, relaying story after story of their childhood adventures and enough inside jokes to make Hubert want to excuse himself and go sulk in a corner somewhere. But he didn't leave for fear of what might happen in his absence, and he quietly chewed his food mechanically and swallowed without tasting it.

"Fourier has always been looking after Pascal as far as I can remember," said Madic rather wistfully. "Especially since their father passed away. Oh-" he stopped himself and checked Pascal's expression. Her cheery demeanor didn't falter a bit and Madic was relieved.

"I don't mind," smiled Pascal. "It's been so long since then, after all."

"Well, I know you don't like to talk about him, especially since your mother had passed shortly before that…oh, um, right. Sorry, Pascal. I just keep saying the wrong things tonight," he chuckled apologetically.

"No worries!" Pascal said, patting him on the back. "No use in cryin' over your lot in life. Won't change a thing, right?"

"That's what I've always admired about Pascal," said Madic looking over to Hubert, not acknowledging the grim expression in the other man's face. "She always smiles, and always looks on the bright side of things. I bet if it wasn't for Pascal, Fourier would have never gotten out of that funk after their parents passed." He turned to smile at her. "You have the spirit of an unsinkable ship."

"Aww, shucks," said Pascal, scratching the back of her head shyly.

"I remember Fourier constantly trying to get you to act more ladylike, bathe more often, and use a proper vocabulary," laughed Madic.

"_Thingamabob_ and _whack-a-doodle_ are useful words," laughed Pascal.

"But in all honesty," Madic said as an aside. "Pascal was always at the top of the class and actually has an extensive vocabulary. She's just too lazy to use it."

"Meh," said Pascal with a shrug.

"Oh, I should get going," said Madic, checking his pocket watch. "I have an early shift tomorrow. If you're going to check out the ruins, you should be careful. The monsters haven't been cleared out of it yet. The Strahtan military usually escorts us there but they haven't done any real housekeeping of the place."

"We're working on it," said Hubert with a tight smile. "The military's objectives right now are securing the trade routes for cryas distribution and developmental research."

"Well, since you're a high ranking Major, I guess you can protect Pascal," said Madic.

"I would do it even if I wasn't and without your prompting," said Hubert, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "However, Pascal is quite a capable woman and her arsenal is well rounded. I'd really just be there for show."

"That's not true, Hu," insisted Pascal. "Your combat skills are really like, _wham-bam-whoosh_. I'm no good at the up close stuff."

"I'm glad you approve," smiled Hubert. "I'd be happy to escort you but remember it's still military business so no wandering off."

"I could also ask my boss if I could help. That way you two won't get lost. I'm pretty familiar with the ruins by now."

"I don't think that will be necess-" began Hubert.

"Thanks, Madic!" Pascal burst out enthusiastically.

"Well that settles it. I'll make sure I clear it with my boss and you can meet me there."

"Awesome!" said Pascal, grinning ear to ear.

When Madic finally left, it was already quite late and Hubert directed Pascal to the room to sleep, warning her that they'd have an early start to the Uncharted Sand Stretch the next morning. He had already made up his mind to stay at the barracks and come fetch her in the morning and bid her a polite good night.

He felt a twitch in his eye and as his soldiers observed him as he entered the barracks, the irritated look on his face told them to hold off speaking to him until morning.

-000-

True to his word, Madic met them at the entrance of the Amarcian ruins in the Uncharted Sandstretch when they made it around mid-morning. This was one of two cannons the Amarcians had built to guarantee a method of re-entry to Fodra which was the original plan once they solved the Lambda problem and the core problem. When Fodra was given up for good, the Amarcians resolved to settle in Ephinea with the native population, traveling in a ship that eventually was dismantled to create the Enclave. It seemed the Amarcians had traveled the four corners of the world and left behind hints of their technology and culture everywhere in their endless search for a way home.

Hubert harbored his dislike of Pascal's fellow Amarcian with a strained greeting after Pascal had given her friend a bear hug though they had just seen one another the night before. He left the two chatting amongst themselves as he and his personal soldiers went to the entrance. Strahtan guards were standing by the doorway and reported to him as he approached.

"Nothing to report, sir," said one of the guards with the Strahtan military salute.

"Give me the list of people who have come and gone from this location in the past fortnight," ordered Hubert.

"Yes, sir," said the other guard, handing him a clipboard. Hubert flipped through the sheets paper, scanning the lines until he came across the most recent entries. Madic and his research team were the only ones to frequent the ruins during the time the research went missing.

"Curious," said Hubert under his breath.

"What is?" asked Pascal, suddenly by his side. Hubert looked at her with a start, but her ability to appear out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly were not new to him.

"Nothing," he dismissed, as he handed the clipboard back to the guard and followed Madic inside.

Madic showed the other guards further inside the ruins and Hubert noticed Pascal was lagging a bit behind. He slowed to match her pace and walked beside her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, questioning the thoughtful expression on her face.

"Nothing," she responded cheerfully, but she paused to add, "We kinda keep each other at arm's length, don't we?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When you're onto to something, you don't like to show your cards to anyone. I guess that keeps you ahead of the game, since you're in the middle of an investigation and such…." She sighed and looked to see that Madic and the others were further ahead of them now. "I guess I can be that way too with what I'm thinkin'. But if it's just you and me here, Hu, if I promise to tell you everything I'm thinkin' about, will you tell me what you're thinkin' too?"

It was his turn to look at her thoughtfully before responding, "Is that what's bothering you?"

"Well, I guess, yeah. I mean, we're friends, aren't we?"

Hubert tried not to grimace at the word 'friends" and sighed as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"Would it make you feel better, or would you still be my friend if I told you Madic is among the suspected thieves?"

Pascal blinked at him, then responded, "I would think you and I know each other better than that." She took his hand and squeezed. "Don't hold back on my account. I kinda like the way you say things to me straight and more often than not, blunt. That way I don't have to guess."

"Well I would ask the same of you," Hubert said. "Instead of hiding what you're feeling inside, I want you to know you can talk to me, about anything."

"Oh." Pascal had an inscrutable expression on her face. "I..."

"We've known each other for a while now. I can't say I'm the most approachable but if you have a problem or something you need to talk about, I'd like to be of use to you."

"All right-y then." She let go of his hand and they continued walking to catch up with the others. "I hate to admit it but I suspect Madic as well. There's something about his research that doesn't make sense. He was never one for number crunching and I think there's more to his purpose here than he would let on. Madic is too…." she struggled for the right words to avoid betraying her friend but there was no way to put it politely. "Ambitious…to just be helping someone else's research. I want to keep believing in him, though."

"Always the optimist," he smiled.

"Someone's gotta balance you out," she grinned. Hubert felt his heart skip a beat.

"Hey Pascal!" waved Madic. "I want to show you something. It's a machine that we found but no one can get to work." Pascal's ears perked up and her eyes started to glitter. She looked over to Hubert as if asking for permission and when he gave her a non-committal shrug, she took off in that direction.

Pascal approached a pedestal of sorts with a panel at the center. There were buttons and a small screen at the top of the panel, but the screen was blank. The power source seemed cut off and Pascal found a panel at the base of the pedestal and yanked it open.

"Hmm…it seems it's gotten rusty. Let's see if I adjust this, and then do that…" she mumbled to herself as she rearranged the wiring inside. Then, she pulled a mallet of sorts out of nowhere and started banging on some parts.

"H-Hey," said Madic in shock. "You're gonna break it."

"Nah," said Pascal as she gave it another whack. "Amarcian technology is wa-a-a-y sturdier than that." Before her friend could protest further, the screen turned on and Pascal started pushing some buttons.

"Ah ha!" she exclaimed as she continued to fiddle with it. "This seems like a map of the place. It seems to show where everything is. Here's the main room for the cannon. There's the other exit and portal. This room is where they store the junk. Here's where they store the blue prints. Wow," she exclaimed. "They have a library full of blue prints in this little room here. But it's locked. Bummer."

"You're amazing, Pascal. Can you break the code?" Madic asked tentatively.

"Why?" asked Pascal.

"What do you mean why? There might be stuff in there that's essential to my-" he broke off his sentence. "To our research." She gave a non-committal shrug.

"I guess I could. I broke into the other database at the station in Lhant to access this one. If I'm not mistaken this combination key pass would be the same if not similar to that one." She tapped on the keyboard and tried some combinations until the door of the vault unlocked.

"I knew you couldn't pass up a good puzzle challenge," Madic smiled.

"But why would you need a bunch of blue prints? What are you planning to do with them?" Her friend merely smiled at her, but Pascal felt that something was off. His smile did not reach his eyes and in fact sent a small chill down her spine. Instinctively she stepped away from him.

"What's with the reaction, Pascal? Don't you trust me?"

"Well...no, not really and that smile of yours is creepin' me out."

"You were always the top of our class and you intuitively figure things out. You have a way with machines and you can also read people pretty well. It's really uncanny at how accurate that is. Too bad you don't have what it takes to go any further."

"What do you mean?" she asked calmly though she felt her pulse quicken and wondered what was taking Hubert so long.

"Don't tell me you still believe that nonsense your father was spewing that science is meant to better people's lives?"

Pascal's eyes went stone cold. "How dare you."

"Ah," he chuckled. "There you are. I wondered how long you were going to keep up pretenses with me." He walked over to a pillar and pushed a small button on a panel. Immediately the door to the chamber slammed closed and Pascal knew she was trapped inside, alone with him.

"Science is meant to be sold to the highest bidder. No matter how lofty your goals may be, in the end you will always need a source of funding. Also," he leered, "the less competition the better."

"Madic!" she called out as she drew her shot staff. From the other side of the door she could hear Hubert's voice as he pounded on it.

"No hard feelings, Pascal. This is just payback for all those times you put me in second place."

"We were kids!" she retorted. "Don't tell me you're still holding grudges."

"I don't hate you. I just need a little diversion while I make my escape. My employer needs those blueprints and I only have a few more days to get those to him. I stole my supervisor's research to see if she was any closer to finding the secret door but you found it in an instant. It's really fortunate for me that you came. You were very useful." He pushed another button and the floor fell out from under her feet.

"Thanks," he added with a smile after she vanished into the darkness.

* * *

><p>Note: Whoa, just read this over again and I realized I modeled Madic after Hans (Frozen).<p>

-K


	5. Chapter 5: A Bunch of Fives

**Chapter 5: A Bunch of Fives**

Hubert paused only a moment to examine the hole in the ground where the floor had shifted to reveal a chute of sorts before plunging himself into it. He barely heard the protests of his soldiers as he slid down into the darkness. His men already had their orders to find Madic. Hubert would rather Madic be found alive if only so he could bury a fist into his face. In the instant he heard the door to that chamber slam shut he knew that Pascal was in danger and as soon as he could, he blasted a hole into the door so he could get to her.

It was too late, however. By the time he was able to blast a hole large enough to squeeze through his beloved Pascal had disappeared, Madic was gone and there was only a hole in the ground. The logical conclusion was that they had not fallen in together, Pascal had walked into a trap by making the machine work and now the culprit got what he wanted and was making an escape.

Torn between his duty of apprehending the culprit, and his unrequited love, Hubert chose Pascal. She was the one thing in his life that would never make any sense. No matter how many times he ran the same scenario through his mind there would always be one conclusion.

As he slid down the passage he there was one of three things waiting for him. The path could lead to an exit, if it was designed to be a secret means of escape. It could have also been used for waste products or to drop unwanted parts to a collection area when the building was constructed. That would be an uncomfortable landing. Of course, it could be a trap built for whatever reason and at the end of the passage, towards which he was sliding with increasing speed, there could be sharp spikes or monsters or both.

Regardless, he would either find Pascal or…

An amused smile crept to his face as he noticed a light at the end of the passage.

_There's no way in hell I'd be bested by the likes of him! _he thought furiously and readied for impact. He came through the opening at breakneck speeds and tumbled as gracefully as he could onto the cold, hard ground below. Hubert didn't have time to ponder where he was or check if he had broken anything before he leaped out of the way of a giant lizard's tail. Make that three giant lizards.

"Take that!" he heard Pascal cry out as a bright barrage of energy burst forth from her shot staff. Hubert drew his dual pistols and immediately went into action.

"Pascal!" he called out and in an instant she moved out of the way to give him a clearer shot.

"Hu!" she responded gratefully as she found a safer spot to activate her summons for some heavy ammunition. Pascal knew that Hubert was much better at fighting up close, though single handedly fighting three giant monsters at the same time did make her worry a bit about how this was all going to end.

"Just like old times," he said as he dodged and weaved in between them, over their sliding tails and away from their gnashing teeth. With one graceful leap upwards from a low precipice Hubert showered them with gunfire in an upside-down arc. When he landed, he tucked and rolled out of the way for mecha-Asbel to make short work of one of the lizards.

"Just so you know," called out Pascal as she started running away from one of the monsters who was taking a keen interest in her. "I wasn't always having fun during those times. _Eeek_!" She jumped up to avoid the other lizards swinging tail and stumbled her way towards Hubert. As she approached he could see she was hurt.

"Pascal, you're bleeding! Let me heal-" he started.

"No time!" she shouted, cutting him off. She cocked her weapon and fired a spray of fire power into one of the lizards eyes, temporarily blinding him. Hubert took that as his queue to attack again.

While he did so, Pascal found another relatively safe spot to call for mecha-Sophie whose relentless spray of bombs and then large rays of laser cannon fire for a finishing touch was much needed. Hubert finished off the the second monster quickly thereafter.

"Why does it have to be lizards?!" she lamented, as she ran away from the last monster chasing after her.

"They're slimy and have nasty chompers and their eyes are like waaaaaay too creepy!"

Hubert ran in-between her and her assailant as he joined his blades together and used the lizard's snapping mouth for leverage to launch back into the air. His swinging blade whirled in mid air relentlessly slashing at his opponent in a flash of light and steel. Hubert finished it with an arte that pulled a large, blazing arrow of energy from his weapon like a bow and shot directly into the monster's heart, followed by a barrage of smaller arrows to make sure it wasn't going to get up again.

When it was over Hubert let out a steady breath and holstered his blades at his sides. Still panting from her own exertions Pascal walked over to him an grinned.

"It never fails to hit me at times like these just how super cool you are. Next time we run into monsters of this size my bets are all on you." Hubert looked at her arm and frowned.

"Let me heal you," he insisted. Now that the danger was gone, she finally let him.

She sat down where she stood, partly out of exhaustion and watched his fingers gingerly lift her sleeve to get to the gash in her arm. At first she was quiet as he continued his ministrations but then her thoughts turned darker and angrier after rethinking what they had been through. Even if it were only a "diversion" as Madic put it, she could have been killed, and worse, Hubert as well.

"When I see Madic again I'm gonna punch him in the nose," Pascal said hotly. "How dare he use me like that!"

"You need to calm down. You're fidgeting. Hold still." She did as she was told.

"Besides, you can't think clearly when you're angry," he sighed. "Do you know where he was going?"

"Hmmmm… he said something about giving the blueprints to his employer. He's going to sell them in a few days. Hu, the schematics for a lot of weapons were included in that blueprint vault…." she said, worry crossing her face.

"Don't make that face, Pascal," Hubert said gently, touching a hand to her cheek. "I'll figure something out."

"Oh Hu," she said with a frown. "If you hadn't gone after me you might've caught Madic by now."

"If given the choice between you and anything else…." he said, with a trailing voice. He looked up at her resolutely. "I would never choose differently."

"Hu…" she said almost inaudibly. Her wide-eyed stare made him feel shy and he blushed all the way to his ears at the sound.

"We should get going. There has to be a way out of here."

"Right," she said, snapping out of her daze.

"If I'm not mistaken, he's going to meet up with his employer at the Presidential Ball, a few days from now. Dignitaries from all Ephinea and the capital will be there and many wealthy, powerful people." He sighed, "Including my father."

"Well, if he's going to sell to the 'highest bidder,' that would certainly be the place to start," muttered Pascal.

To their chagrin, the area beneath the ruins was a dungeon full of giant lizards and a maze on top of everything. To activate the doors, they had to connect the floor circuits that had gone offline over time. Hubert was glad that he was trapped with Pascal, who could figure out any puzzle with seemingly little effort.

As Pascal charted their way through it, they fought countless monsters until finally finding the way out. By the time they exited into the cold desert night both were nearly spent, completely out of breath and ready to pummel Madic to a pulp with their bare fists at the first chance.

* * *

><p>Author's note:<p>

"A bunch of fives" was something I had to look up. It actually means a fist, or making a fist with five fingers. Appropriate for a violent chapter. I was kind of excited to put them both in action though. Hubert's artes are really awesome IMO.

-K


	6. Chapter 6: At Sixes and Sevens

**Chapter 6: At Sixes and Sevens**

By some miracle of the gods Pascal and Hubert made it out of the Uncharted Sandstretch in the dark and braved the cold desert night to reach a nomads camp at the halfway point before Sable Izolle. After the nomads offered an empty tent, Pascal lit the fire pit with her shot staff and then collapsed face first onto the dusty rugs beneath her feet. She was both hungry and too tired to eat at the same time. Hubert did likewise, facing up, as he stared at the fresh smoke rising to the hole at the top of the tent.

"If I never see a sand scorpion again…." she muttered without lifting her head to speak, but the rest of it was inaudible. Hubert could only grunt a response as his eyes fluttered closed before he could even bother taking off his glasses. After a while, Pascal lifted her head to see that he was already fast asleep and smiled. She rolled onto one side and pulled his handkerchief from under her cloak, fingering the embroidered initials "H.O." gently. He was a noble after all, raised in a very different environment than Pascal, and still he was a difficult puzzle to decipher.

Aside from Richard, King of Windor, and Asbel the Lord of Lhant, Hubert was aloof, and what others might even consider 'snobbish.' Hubert seldom spoke to those he didn't know, and wouldn't bother getting to know them if they had no intrinsic value to what Pascal supposed was his 'master plan.' Whatever that plan was, Pascal predicted in the long run it had to do with sitting in the President's chair. But it wasn't tyranny or power that lured him there. Unlike Mr. Oswell, Hubert wanted power so he could help people.

He calculated other people's moves, as well as his own, as expertly as Pascal calculated algorithms. But despite his sharp eyes that saw every motive, there was a kinder, softer side he rarely showed. Except Pascal noticed it more and more. He was very kind when they were alone. When she sneezed he offered a handkerchief. When she stumbled he offered his hand to help her. When she shivered from the cold he pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her to share some warmth. Pascal wondered how odd it was that a young man with such eyes should show abundant kindness to her.

There was really only one reason though she often wondered how it could be true.

_We're so different, Hu. No one would believe us if we told them how we felt…about one another,_ she thought with a humorous, self-deprecating smile, and fell asleep.

When the morning came and shone through the opening at the top of the tent Pascal's eyes fluttered open and she noticed she was alone. She sat up sleepily, scratched her sandy scalp and looked around. The fire was smoldering now, though it seemed Hubert had added some logs to keep her warm. Pascal stretched and yawed unceremoniously as Hubert came back inside. He smiled wryly at her lack of decorum and placed a basket of flat bread, sweet meats and dry fruits he had purchased from the nomads for their breakfast.

"Wow," said Pascal making her way towards the food. "I'm starving."

"I figured as much. You need to eat up and regain your strength if we're going to head back to the capital as soon as possible. The ball is tomorrow and I need to report back to the president. I've hired a Turtlez transport."

"Oh geez, what a relief," she sighed. "If I was going to get any more sand in my boots I was gonna scream."

Hubert chuckled. "The desert does take some getting used to." He paused and then asked, "I guess you prefer Fendel?"

"Heck no," she said honestly. "It gets so cold there sometimes that my fingers get blue and numb while I'm working on the machines. If I caught a cold low and behold I've got icicles coming down my nose. I don't prefer Fendel at all."

"Is there somewhere you do prefer?" he asked.

Pascal gave it some thought but couldn't come up with any definitive answers. She didn't have a home that she preferred. Even at the Enclave she lived apart from her sister, though they lived next door to one another and they seldom "lived" there. When Fourier often called her a stray cat it really wasn't far from the truth.

"When I was little, my family all lived together in a small house, south of Fendel and north of Lhant. It was small but really comfortable to me. I used to sit by the hearth when my mother was in the kitchen making dinner. She had an herb garden outside and every time the breeze blew in I could smell it. It was somewhere I loved to be…" her voice trailed off sadly. "But that place… isn't there anymore. When my parents died we moved back into the Enclave"

"I see," said Hubert quietly. "I have similar memories of Lhant, but I can't quite call that place home now either."

"It was difficult being an orphan but I don't think it was as hard for me as it was for you to be sent away and raised to be someone else's son," she looked at him thoughtfully. "That must've painful for you, Hu." Hubert only responded with a wistful smile.

"For me it didn't help at all that I had the most serious sister on the planet," she grimaced. "Just having Fourier for company was really kinda _bleh_ compared to what we had before. My dad was kind, and loud...and a brilliant scientist. My mom was always smiling and she made the best banana pies. Everything was all messed up after they left us." She pulled out a shiny silver object from her tool belt and let it dangle in front of her face from its chain.

"This watch was the only thing recovered when Dad went missing in an avalanche," she said softly. Hubert though he saw her lip quiver ever so slightly. "A lot of his work was used by the Fendel government to make weapons after he died. If he had lived he wouldn't have let it happen. That's why it's so important to me that we stop Madic. Madic is my friend, but he's doin' this for himself and I can't approve. In the hands of the wrong people those schematics could be used to hurt people. The end would just be…." she faltered a little for the right words, "No good."

Pascal sighed. "In the end it seems that everything an Amarcian makes turns into someone else's weapon. Cryas technology and research…that's all it's really good for."

"Nothing _you_ make is evil," Hubert said gently. "Everything you create helps people."

Pascal blinked at him in silence, and felt a slow blush creep up to the roots of her hair. "You always know how to say the nicest things to a girl," she said, playing it off. He reached out and touched her cheek with the back of one hand.

"Not just any girl," he replied. "Only you." He got up and left the tent to check to see if their transport had arrived. Pascal had a hard time quelling the rapid heartbeat that followed for while after that.

-000-

Pascal sat uncomfortably in the corner of the large sofa quietly sipping her tea in the delicate porcelain cup and saucer. It was laced in gold etching and probably hand painted, and likely worth a small fortune. It took her utmost concentration to sit still and ramrod straight, stay quiet and drink tea at the same time. Doing these things together were more difficlt for her than calculating the rate of power output from a cryas crystals at multiples of two in her head.

Usually when Pascal was alone in her apartment, she drank out of any clean container, like a beaker or flask or watering pot. It didn't matter since the objective was to stay hydrated when working long hours. But here, in the sitting room of the Oswell family home in Yu Liberte, even the way you sipped your tea was scrutinized. Hours and hours of Fourier and Poisson's etiquette lessons came rushing to the forefront of her mind. _Please, don't let me put you guys to shame_, she prayed over and over again.

"So, Miss Pascal," said Ms. Beatrice Oswell, Mr. Oswell's maiden aunt and a sort of matron of the family as Mr. Oswell's wife had passed away some time ago, "what brings you to Yu Liberte?" The way Ms. Beatrice held herself made Pascal conclude the old lady thought very highly of herself, even if others did not.

Pascal gingerly used her pinky finger as leverage against the saucer as she lowered the cup back into place without a sound. With her best poker face she responded, "It is a bit early for the yearly research summit, but by chance I found myself doing research on cryas output, though my forte is Amarcian history. I wanted to do some measurements at the research tower in Sable Izolle. Unfortunately," she paused, _after almost being fossilized by a sandstorm and impaled by a scorpion, _"I had to cut my stay short." Pascal smiled politely, _because one of my friends tried to kill me, the little twerp,_ "It was then that Hubert rescued me and brought me here for safe keeping. I was glad to have an escort. To my chagrin this time of year is quite inhospitable to travel, is it not?"

"Ah yes." The old woman sipped from her cup. Ms. Beatrice was pleased with Pascal's perfect diction, though Hubert, who was sitting across from her, had to pick his jaw off the ground.

"Miss Pascal is one of the brightest minds from the Amarcian Enclave," said Mr. Oswell, standing apart from them by the large window. "I had the pleasure of meeting her at the last summit." Pascal gave him her most gracious smile though she knew his eyes were glittering like gald because of some of the ideas she had lectured on last year. If anyone could turn an idea into money, Pascal was certain this man could. "Miss Pascal has since been the Chancellor of Fendel's right hand researcher. I hear you have access to all areas and all levels of government." His eyes were positively shining.

"Please, Mr. Oswell," she let out one of her sister's faux laughs. "Chancellor Eigen's real right hand man is Captain Malik, formerly of Windor's knights. "They just let me tinker around because sometimes I have good ideas," she said modestly.

"Well, we are pleased to have you as our guest and I do hope you will join us in attending the President's Ball," grinned Mr. Oswell. It was really unsettling the way he showed all his teeth when he did that.

"Of course," she replied. _I have every intention of going so I can find Madic and strangle him myself._

"Though I had hoped our Hubert would be paired with the President's daughter Giselle tomorrow night, I heard yesterday that she was going to be escorted by Mr. Isaac's son. Unfortunately, Hubert hadn't even bothered asking her," he said, giving his adopted son a pointed look. Hubert didn't even flinch.

"I was never planning on asking her," he said defiantly. "That was your idea."

"You never ask _anyone_," said his father between almost gritted teeth, still trying to show a semblance of a smile. "But Miss Pascal, since you will be staying with us, perhaps you wouldn't mind if Hubert escorted you?"

"Not at all," said Pascal sincerely, shooting a glance towards him. "Since Hubert and I did risk life and limb together in a mad-capped adventure to save the world, it is safe to say that I am quite comfortable in his company."

"Excellent, it's decided then," said Mr. Oswell. They all sipped their tea together as the maids brought in more cakes and cookies.

It wasn't until the coffee tables were cleared and Hubert and Pascal were on their way out that Pascal gingerly took out some cake and cookies wrapped in a table napkin from her pockets and dutifully started scarfing them down.

"Sheesh, I thought they were never going to leave us alone, Hu. Eating like a _lady_ is just _sooooo_ unfulfilling," she said in between bites and rolled up the now empty napkin and stuffed it inside a potted plant. "Your dad's cook is _awesome_. If that custard was banana flavored I would'a lost all control."

Hubert stared at her incredulously and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Speaking of control, wherever did you learn to speak like _that_?"

"Like what?" she said, mouth still full and brushing the crumbs off the side of her face. She seemed to be spreading the mess further and so Hubert gave an exasperated sigh, pulled out a clean handkerchief, and assisted.

"Nevermind," he said, relenting. "You just never cease to amaze me."

"Oh, you mean talkin' like Fourier? _That's_ easy, she's always nagging me, even in my head. I hear her talking to me all the time. Though," she paused thoughtfully, "I had to concentrate my hardest. Being a researcher doesn't really develop skills in human contact, y'know? And I've been doing that since I was a kid, soooo…. I guess I'm outta practice. My way of talking is _waaaaay_ less work."

Hubert snorted a laugh and led her outside to the fountain lined walkways of the city. If the people of Yu Liberte knew how to do one thing perfectly, it was how to make a fountain. They were everywhere, trickling and splashing and generally creating a gentle ambiance against the filtered light of the city's watery dome. As they walked down the lane, her hand resting politely in the crook of his arm, she spotted their reflection in the surface of an elongated pond. Dressed in the ruffly layers of standard Yu Liberte fashion, a slow grin touched her lips as she walked alongside Hubert, wearing one of many spare military uniforms. With only her dual colored hair as a giveaway that she was not a native, Pascal looked like she might actually belong there, next to him.

"Do you wear anything else other than that uniform?" she asked as they walked towards the entrance of the dress boutique, a must visit location if one was staying, and being seen in public, with an Oswell. Pascal felt a little guilty that Hubert had paid for everything since she ran into him in Sable Izolle and now he was going to spend a heap of money on her clothes.

"It suits most occasions and social functions," he shrugged. "It's less of a hassle for me. I don't have time to decide what cravat I'm going to wear or whether my new silk breeches are the latest fashion, like my cousin Raymond."

They pushed open the shop door, which jingled a bell to let the shopkeeper know she had guests. A large, buxom woman in too many frills and tons of make-up came out to greet them. She recognized Hubert right away and flattery started gushing from her mouth until Hubert stoically held one palm up to her face to silence her. Pascal resisted the urge to burst out laughing.

"Please, Madam Tremaine, I don't have a lot of time since I do have to get back to work. But could I trouble you to assist my…friend, here. She will be attending the Ball tomorrow and needs to look presentable."

"She has a fine figure," assessed the portly woman looking Pascal up and down with a critical eye. "But her hair…does she need a wig?"

"Her hair is _fine_," Hubert insisted.

"Ah, well, I do have a very nice set of barrettes here for her to put her hair back," the woman sniffed. "Might I suggest something in green or violet?"

"Blue," said Pascal resolutely. It has to match this," she indicated, pointing to Hubert's uniform.

"I might actually have something," the woman said as she headed back to her dresses in stock in the back room. "Blue was very much in fashion this season."

Hubert stared at Pascal with an arched eyebrow.

"Well," she said sheepishly. "I thought it would be nice if we went as a matching pair."

"Matching pair?" asked Hubert. It sounded like something only couples tried to do and he could feel a faint blush in his face.

"I know we're trying to find Madic…. but I've never been anyone's fancy party date before. I've never been _anyone's_ date before so I'm kinda curious what that would feel like," Pascal said, putting her two forefingers together.

"So you're experimenting with _me_?" he asked. "I'm hardly date material."

"Heh, I'm only doing this because it _is_ you," she laughed. "I wouldn't be caught dead in a fancy dress, otherwise."

Despite the fact that they were on a mission to catch a thief, Hubert's mind was at odds with his heart in trying to stay calm and move on, instead of gathering her up in his arms and holding her close.

* * *

><p>Author's note: So I thought it would be hilarious if Pascal actually knew how to talk like a normal person, all the while her real personality just bubbling under the surface in italics. For those of us who ship Hubert x Pascal, I'm sure you worry (as much as you can about fictional characters) how that relationship will pan out since Hubert is, well, Hubert and social acceptance is necessary in his circles. Needless to say, it was fun writing this chapter. ^_^<p>

-K


	7. Chapter 7: To the Nth Degree

**Chapter 7: The Nth Degree**

Hubert nearly tripped over his own feet as he tried not to hasten his pace towards Pascal, currently engaging in small talk with his father and the President. As it turned out, Pascal was a genius in emulation, and by simply telling herself to "do as Fourier would do," she blended perfectly with the crowd. With timed smiles and polite laughter, she played her part to the hilt while dressed in the most stunning gown of dark blue satin and a pale blue chiffon overlay. Tiny blue embroidered roses accented the gown here and there. Shiny silver barrettes tied back small braids in her hair, and silver beaded netting held her unruly locks in place. Hubert found himself speechless as he stood at her elbow.

"Oh, Hubert," said his father happily. "I was just telling the President how lovely your date is tonight." The emphasis on the word _date_ did not go unnoticed.

"Please, father," responded Hubert, finding his voice again and offering his arm to Pascal. She took it gratefully if only to get away from the spotlight and scrutiny of the small crowd that had gathered around them. "Anyone with eyes can see how lovely she is _all_ of the time." He gave a polite bow as the two older gentlemen exchanged glances, and led Pascal away to a quieter portion of the ballroom. Pascal hoped the shadows were covering the hot flush that rose to her cheeks.

"I haven't seen Madic at all. Every stuffed shirt dressed to the nines here looks the same as any other, and any one of these people could be a potential buyer," sighed Hubert. Pascal was grateful he changed then subject and was already in "work mode."

"It's easier to conduct an exchange in a group of people. We can assume that Madic has already negotiated his price to his employer, and that his employer is looking for some thing or things in particular. But we must capture Madic to recover the rest of the schematics," Hubert continued.

"I doubt he'd be carrying all that stuff with him," concluded Pascal. "But he'd most likely book it as soon as he's done here."

"I've already tasked my soldiers to locate where he is staying in the city. They have warrants to search his rooms, but it would be best to find Madic himself and ask him directly. He could have hidden them."

"If I were Madic, where would I be…? asked Pascal to herself. She looked up towards the giant crystal chandeliers above and saw the ballroom had a second level with balconies. "I think I would be somewhere up high, looking down at people. He was always kind of like that."

"Good call," said Hubert, adjusting his glasses. "I see him. He's on the second balcony to the left. "Don't look up," he commanded as she was just about to do it.

"Come with me," he said, leading her onto the ballroom floor. Pascal looked around and noticed something odd.

"Why are people staring at us?" she asked self-consciously. "Some of them look kinda…ticked off."

"They're not staring at you, they're staring at me. I never dance and I think I may have actually refused every eligible lady in this room at some point or another."

"Oh, Hu," she sighed. "And they call _me_ anti-social."

Without another word Hubert held her close by the waist and Pascal tried not to yelp out loud in surprise. Just like that they started to waltz in time with the others, swirling and turning gracefully, while Hubert was maneuvering them towards the staircase that led up to the second level. Flustered, Pascal did her best to keep up with him, though she was hardly as nimble on her feet in dress shoes as he was. With him leading she was able to keep up with the tempo as long as she didn't look down or consciously count in three-quarter time. Pascal kept a steady gaze at Hubert's jawline, and Hubert kept an eye on Madic as they danced.

He happened to look down and noticed her staring. They both blushed and became a little self-conscious.

"W-What is it?" he asked as they neared the end.

"Why are we dancing again?" Pascal asked.

"Because it would be too conspicuous if I simply dragged you across the dance floor," he said matter-of-factly, though his ears were red now. "This is the quickest route to the stairs and the other routes are crowded right now."

"You said you never danced," she recalled.

"Yes, but…" he began, but hesitated. As the waltz ended, Hubert bowed gracefully. Pascal looked around and saw that the ladies were also curtseying to their partners and so hastily did likewise.

"But-?"

"But that was because there was never anyone I _wanted_ to dance with," he responded and loosened his collar a bit. "It seems a little hot in here, doesn't it?"

He extended a gloved hand towards her, "Let's go." Pascal took his hand in his very warm one and felt her heart skip several beats as they hurried up the flight of stairs.

She spotted Madic sipping a glass of wine at a table at the opposite end of the ballroom. Another man approached and sat down next to him. "That must be who he's waiting for. We should split up," said Pascal as the stairs were equal distance to the table where Madic was sitting.

"Split up?" asked Hubert. "But you're unarmed."

"There's always room for a weapon, even in a get-up like this," she laughed. "I packed light." Pascal lifted the hem of her gown and pulled out a silver rod strapped to her lower leg from underneath her ruffled petticoat. With the push of a button, both ends of the rod extended into a lightweight shot staff, with a head that opened like a fan.

"I made a modified version of my usual staff last night," she grinned. Hubert just stared at her blankly.

"Well, I was bored," she shrugged. "I tinker when I'm bored. It's not like I know how to _embroider_ or anything."

Hubert let out a genuine laugh. Her eyes widened as she had never really heard it before.

"This is why I adore you," he smiled. Pascal blinked and looked away, blushing furiously.

"Hu, I think-" she said, but then added, "I have something I need to say to you… So after this is over, before you go back to work again, can you give me a minute?"

Hubert looked at her questioningly. "Of course," he answered.

With that, they parted ways, each headed towards the same place from different directions.

When Hubert approached Madic, Pascal stood behind a pillar and let him do his job. This was, after all, still an official investigation. As expected, Madic tried to run as Hubert arrested the patron who had made the purchase. He called the other guards standing by to stop the thief but Pascal stepped out of the shadows at that moment, and extended her staff, barring the exit.

"P-Pascal," stammered Madic. He did a double-take at what she was wearing. "You're here. You look _great_."

"Aww, shucks," said Pascal, rubbing the back of her head. "But flattery will get you nowhere. You almost got me _killed_." Her smiled turned acidic and there was a dangerous glint in her eye. "And here I thought we were friends."

"Now, now, Pascal," said Madic nervously. "I figured since you're such a world traveler and hero and everything you'd be able to fend off the monsters. Besides, as predicted, your boyfriend jumped in right after you and I heard he's quite the capable man. Heh, I knew you'd be fine."

"But I'm _not_ fine," said Pascal between her teeth. "You just stole our heritage and are willing to sell it to the highest bidder, regardless of what they would use it for. How could you be so…heartless?"

"Science has nothing to do with heart," Madic sneered. "Even if you protect the blueprints now, who's to say the President won't use them for something later, like war?"

"That still doesn't make what you're doing right," she insisted.

"Oh come off your high horse for once, Pascal. Are you really as naive as your father? Even when you're gone, who knows who will get their hands on your creations and who will stop them from using your inventions for evil?"

"Sophie will still be here," said Pascal thoughtfully. "And mecha-Sophie is already sentient. I trust in the future and that my legacy won't be death and destruction, because nothing I make is evil." She cocked her weapon. "But I don't really have any problem with violence when it's necessary."

"You're not going to use your weapon in here are you? There are too many people," said Madic smugly.

In a flash Pascal sprinted up to him, twirling her staff in mid-hair and shoving the base into his gut to knock the wind out of him. Madic let out a breath that was halfway between a cough and a wretch just before the other half of the shot staff smacked him across the face, which sent him reeling back. As he landed in a sprawled mass on the floor, Pascal touched the business end of the staff to his leg and a jolt of power coursed through his body, shocking him unconscious. She kicked him once for good measure, just to make sure he was down. At once, Hubert's men put Madic in shackles, then brought a stretcher to transport him to the prison. As other people started gathering, she once again collapsed her weapon to its more portable size.

Hubert was by her side again instantly. "The rest of the schematics were in his room at a local inn. My men brought it back. He was keeping them in a locked chest."

"What will you do with them?" she asked.

"I'm only turning in the one that was sold as evidence at Madic's trial. Otherwise, I was planning to hand the rest back to you."

"Me?" she asked incredulously.

"If anything, you should return them to the Enclave for safe keeping. It's part of the Amarcian heritage, after all. Strahta has no right to keep it."

"Thanks, Hu," said Pascal, her eyes shining gratefully. Hubert nodded curtly and asked that she give him a moment to finish up and she waited.

"That was impressive overall," said Hubert after he giving his final orders to his men. "Nicely done."

"Awww, it was nothin' really," she replied, adding cheerfully as she pounded a fist into an open palm, "I really wanted to pound his face into a bloody pulp." She looked around and saw that several ladies were huddled together and whispering to one another behind their fans. Pascal suddenly felt self-conscious, a rare feeling for her. "I guess this means I blew my cover," she with a disappointed frown.

"It doesn't matter," said Hubert stepping closer to her and taking a hand in his own. "Nothing anyone could say would make me change the way I see you. And I prefer the way you usually are."

"About that, Hu…" she said, her voice trailing.

"Let's not talk here," he said as he pulled her outside to the vacant terrace outside. The bright, full desert moon hovered above them in a cloudless night. The calm, chilled air steadied her nerves a bit as Hubert led her further out and leaned his arms against the stone railing overlooking the rest of the Presidential residence.

"Let me guess," he sighed. "This is where you let me down gently and tell me that you don't feel the same, correct?"

"Huh?" asked Pascal, looking at him strangely.

"I know I told you how I felt before but I don't think you understand. Every time I'm close to you…," he faltered, and started again, "every time I see your radiant smile, I just want to…hold you." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "It doesn't make any sense, and we're as different as any two people could be, but I think about you all the time. When I'm at work, whether I'm here or away, you fill my thoughts involuntarily. The more time I spend apart from you, the more I can't get you out of my head. Except now that I'm with you, I actually feel normal again. I don't have to think of you because you're there, in my father's house, waiting for me." He sighed. "I know that you can't stay here forever. I just can't stop wanting…hoping…."

She waited for him to finish.

"That you'd stay," he said resolutely. "Even if I had to ask the President to hire you for some project or another, I was hoping you'd stay. Even if you couldn't stay long, just a little while longer…that's all I want. Would it be too much to ask?" He paused. "Would it be appropriate to ask how you feel even though I'm actually afraid to know your answer?"

Pascal gave no response but he thought he saw sympathy in her eyes.

"You don't feel the same way about m-" he said, but before he could finish she gently put a gloved finger to his lips.

"Would you shut up for minute, Hu?" she asked. "I told you when it was all over I had something I wanted to say to you. So, please be quiet for bit, okay?"

He nodded silently, dumfounded by her brusque attitude.

"There are so many things I like about you, Hu," she said quietly as she watched the moon above. "You strut around as proud a peacock as any in there, but you actually have the talent to back it up. You can _bang-bang-whoosh_ an enemy blindfolded, all the while strutting in heels more gracefully than I ever could. You conceal a whole mess of things in your heart but you're also painfully honest underneath. Your'e really distant on the outside but inside you care about a lot of things. You're a walking contradiction, just like me."

Hubert waited for her to explain.

"I smile a lot because they tell me I look like my mom, and she always smiled. So when I smile I feel like she's smiling with me. I laugh a lot at everything because I feel like I need to make up for my dad's share, now that he's gone. I gotta balance my sister out 'cause Fourier is as serious as they come," she wrinkled her nose disdainfully. "Fourier calls me a social moron. People actually call me a lot of things, like nerd, girl genius, weirdo, ruins nut, grease monkey…." she stopped there so she could get back to the point. "No one has ever…used any of the fancy words you use to describe me. Nobody has ever called anything of mine 'radiant,' until now. The way you say it," Pascal stopped to let her hand wander to his, and intertwined their pinkies, "makes me feel as if it's true."

"Pascal…" he said in a low voice. "Do you even realize what you're saying?"

"I think I'm saying that I like you, too," she frowned. "Did it come out wrong?"

Hubert's eyes widened and his heart started to pound. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"No," he said gently, holding her hand now firmly in his, and pulling her closer. "I understood perfectly."

"Good," she sighed in relief. "I thought I was totally gonna botch it."

"So you actually like me?" asked Hubert, afraid it was too good to be true.

"Yeah," she said. "When you ask me like that it's embarrassing, but yeah. My heart goes all floopy-loopy when I'm close to you and whenever you do something cool I feel like cheering out loud. I've never felt this way before," she added. "So I think…I might be in love…" Pascal could feel her face turning red and she made a face. "Omigosh, I just said that out loud."

"No matter how you feel about me," he said shyly, "I feel infinitely more towards you."

"You're so competitive, Hu, always trying to top everyone else," she giggled. "But I guess you're saying that you love me...to the _nth_ degree?" Pascal thought about it for a moment with her mathematical mind. "Wow, Hu, that's really romantic."

In that short span of awkward silence that followed, Hubert leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, and when he opened his eyes he saw the shocked expression on her face.

"I'm officially off duty... So it's not inappropriate," he tried to justify.

"You…kissed me," Pascal stated, still perplexed as she brought a finger to her lips.

"Did you not… Shouldn't I have?" he asked tentatively. She suddenly jerked her head up and she looked as though she were about to cry.

"I apologize if that's not what you-" he began, but before he could continue she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her teeth nearly crashing into his.

"Wha-" he gasped, his lips still engaged with hers. He managed her name in-between breaths but she would not relent. It was not until he surrendered and closed his eyes as his hands wrapped around her middle that Pascal pulled away and met his gaze.

"That was wonderful, _Hubert_," she said and leaned her forehead against his. His heart nearly melted at the sound of his name on her lips and he could feel his head grow light enough to almost float away.

Pascal sighed contentedly and felt as though she had finally come home after a long, long journey.

_Finis._

* * *

><p>Author's notes:<p>

Yes, I made fun of his heels a bit in this chapter but Hubert really is awesome. It's the first time I liked a side character more than the main character-expect for Symphonia, I didn't like any of those characters (sorry, Symphonia fans). Richard was second place of course and Asbel a distant third. But I can safely say that Pascal is my favorite _Tales of _heroine. She's quirky and fun, and her mecha weapons are just too cool. Together with Hubert, I totally fangirl this couple.

So instead of a short one-shot, I threw in something fun where you could see snippets of what they would think of one another while going through a mini crisis together, and just like with Hubert there's more than meets the eye with Pascal. I tried to do her justice. I hoped you liked it.

Until next time,

-Kero


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